Mafia's Most Wanted
by Preppy-Stealthy-Ninja
Summary: The mafia world is in an uproar. The Ninth has been murdered and Tsuna is the number one suspect. Why is he unable to remember anything? Tsuna runs away from the crime scene, but the Vindice catch up with him and send him to an Anti-Mafia organisation that claim he worked for them all along. Tsuna doesn't remember anything. But when you lose your memory, the truth can be expensive.
1. Prologue: The arrest

**PSN:** You know I was debating with this idea for such a long time, that I relented in the end. I had to. I just _had to_ write a story like this.

But this does not follow the typical convention of Tsuna is accused of murder or Tsuna is abandoned by his guardians because he killed somebody. _(Just saying.)_

Have a nice read and review*! :D

Set in TYL verse and this fic can be regarded as a Semi-Au fic, considering that not everything will be true to canon.

**Beta'ed by:** _The awesome PhantomHitman1412_

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_**DISCLAIMER:** _Don't force me to get Xanxus to eliminate you. I do not own KHR. Akira Amano does.

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**"There are three sides to every story. Mine, yours and the truth." Joseph Massino.**

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**Prologue:**

It was the smell of blood that set him off initially. The distinguished metallic aftertaste of the crimson blood was still there, in the very air he was breathing, and it was disturbing him severely. There was something else coated in the air, something he couldn't put his finger on. His lips curled with repugnance as he considered the room that he was in.

Why was he unable to take away the smell of decay that was heavily layered in the air? It felt like something was deteriorating in the very room that he was in. He felt asphyxiated and smothered by the smell that was filling the room, rapidly. Where was it coming from? He could scarcely see anything. The room was indistinct and shadowy, obscured by the dim light that was flickering in the ceiling weakly.

He felt disorientated and was lightheaded. He didn't like the dark. He hated it in fact. It was confining him, and he felt overwhelmed by the smell of blood that just didn't seem to leave him. The smell was everywhere. His hair, his body and even his fingernails. The taste of the metallic substance lingered thickly on his lips.

_I need light,_ he thought with panic, scrambling to his feet. The panic of being inside the shady confined room was beginning to settle. He could already sense his heart palpitating perpetually in an irregular motion inside his rib-cage.

_Thump!_

_Thump!_

He tried standing up, but he became conscious of the fact that his limbs had turned to jelly. He crouched down in the darkness, his heavy breathing the only sound in the room. He tried composing himself, breathing in and out slowly.

He ached all over. His head was hurting and he could feel a dull throb pounding inside his skull. He decided to lie down in a foetal position, closing his eyes as he composed himself.

He tried remembering where he was, and why he had come to this dark room. He tried remembering where the smell of blood had come from. He tried remembering his own name; he tried remembering something about himself.

But in the end, nothing came. He was unable to remember a single thing.

Why? Why could he not remember anything? Why was he incapable of evoking any memories of himself? Surely he would remember his own name? He let out a suffering sigh, angry at himself for being so helpless.

_Who am I? _He thought with panic, his eyes darting around the dark room. The smell was stronger as he cocked his head to the right, and his nose upturned with distaste as the odour of the decaying substance—_whatever it was_—was heavily lining the air, prompting him to stand up with his sleeves covering his nose as he tried to find out where the smell was coming from.

_Ugh,_ he thought, feeling lightheaded and nauseas from the strong smell that was consistently layering the air, making him unable to breathe properly. He gagged silently as he finally found the switch of the light. He pressed the button, and blinked back rapidly as his eyes attuned to the bright light that was threatening to blind him.

He sighed with relief, and twisted around to classify the area the smell was coming from, when his blood turned cold and his heart stopped. He stared and stared, unable to pry his eyes away from the body. His mouth gaped open as his eyes widened with shock.

"No, no…." he began to mutter, as though he could un-see what he had already witnessed, "no, no…."

He closed his eyes and knelt down in a crouch, crumbling to the ground as he tried suppressing the choking fear that was threatening to overlap him. He tried subduing the sob that was also threatening to creep from within him.

There, lying on the floor, in a helpless heap was a dead body of an old man. The blood was beginning to coagulate around him. He noticed that the blood was everywhere, splattered everywhere as though the perpetrator of this crime had been so mad and tried puncturing the victim everywhere. The victim, a man he could not identify, was staring powerlessly at the ceiling, as though in his last moments, he was praying.

The smell. The smell was coming from this dead man. He crept, with morbid curiosity, towards the dead old man, and was surprised to find that the body had turned cold. The skin had begun to grey and again he wondered who would impose such a heinous crime on such a man.

And why, he thought with fear, was he in the same room as the dead body? He looked around himself in terror and felt his breath shorten as he saw the murder weapon. An 8 inch knife that was decorated with blood from the victim.

What if the culprit was still in the room and was planning to kill him next? His knees wobbled in fear as he stayed frozen, rigid in his position. He would be slaughtered just as the poor unfortunate man had been slaughtered. He didn't want to die. He wanted to know who he was and why he was in a room with a strange man who had been killed.

"I need to get out of here," he whispered to himself, feeling guilty immediately. He should report the dead body to somebody who would take the body away.

But that thought was immediately diminished when he caught sight of himself. His suit—why was he wearing suit?—was stained heavily in blood and his hands were also sullied with blood. His eyes widened with dread as he put two and two together. _He couldn't have_.

He didn't….he didn't even know the dead man. Why was he stained with his blood? He choked back the sob that was threatening to erupt and laid down on the ground in contemplation.

There was no way on earth that he killed the man, was there? He stared again at the dead body and tried creating a plausible excuse for himself.

_Maybe I was also a victim and the culprit wanted to kill me._

_Maybe I trashed about in self-defence and got smeared with the victim's blood._

_Maybe I…_

He didn't want to think about it. There was no possibility that he would have the gut's the kill somebody. He didn't know how—maybe gut instincts—but he couldn't even lift a knife to threaten somebody. This thought quelled most of his fears and he sighed.

Surely there was a plausible excuse for everything? He would rectify the situation and explain himself. Surely they would believe him. Maybe there were people who knew him and were willing to listen to his story.

_"Tenth! Damn it! The Tenth has been missing."_

His ears perked up as he heard voices from outside. He could not identify the voice but was glad that he finally had human company—other than an old dead man.

_"Haha, calm down Gokudera. Tsuna will be here somewhere, this mansion is just big."_

Tsuna? Was that his name? The name didn't ring a bell. Maybe they were looking for somebody else that was named Tsuna and was missing?

There was a sharp pause.

_"Stupid idiot! Do you have any idea that the Ninth is also missing? They both disappeared and they can't be found."_

The man named Gokudera barked.

Ninth? Tenth? None of them seemed significant to him. He wondered who they were and if anybody else realized that he was also missing and out of action (albeit, covered in blood).

_"Hmph, you are all annoying. The omnivore will be here somewhere."_

Another unfamiliar voice answered. He tried listening to the conversation that was taking place. Were these people that he knew? Maybe he knew them before his memory relapse. They sounded pretty keen in finding this "Tenth" "Ninth" and "Tsuna".

Could it be that he was Tsuna and the Tenth? Though the name and title seemed irrelevant to him, he hoped that they were searching for him. Then he would be able to explain what had happened and he would show them the dead body and….

_And what?_ He thought, surveying his surroundings.

Wouldn't they stare at him, covered in blood with a dead body close to him? Wouldn't they accuse him and suspect him like he had suspected himself earlier? What if they didn't believe him and decided to pin him with the murder?

_The search didn't sound as exciting as it had before_, he thought, staring sullenly at the locked door.

He could still hear the voices outside, drawing near him.

_"Damn Hibari! He was out for half of the night and Enrico was the only one who noticed."_

He had to get out of here before he was pinned for the murder of a man he had never met. He just couldn't stay in here and wait until he was condemned for a murder he hadn't committed.

He crawled towards the window that was inside this cellar—he had established already that this was a cellar—and stood on the stool that was conveniently inside the room. He wobbled a little and strengthened his stance, pulling the lever in the window lock. He exhaled a loud sigh as the fresh air entered the room.

_Why hadn't he thought of this earlier before he suffered through the smell?_ He thought with amusement.

His sense of relief was short-lived however when he realized that he was too large to fit through the open space of the window. He looked at his grown body and cringed. He would have to break the glass before he could fully fit inside the narrow window.

He looked around, searching for an object that would break the glass. There was nothing there except for the knife that had been used to stab the unfortunate deteriorating man. He stared at the object, debating whether or not he should use it.

If he used it, surely his fingerprints would be on the object and the case would totally backfire against him.

But they would probably suspect him already, so he had no choice but to use it anyway. This was the key to his escape; he shouldn't even be having doubts about anything.

With much regret, he stumbled towards the knife and returned to the stool that was continuously wobbling. He took a deep breath, and with a flurry of swift movements, he banged the knife against the window, until shards of glass flew all over the place, showering him. He closed his eyes in apprehension and inspected the damage that he had just created, sighing with relief as he noticed that the space provided was more commodious for a man of his size.

He heard the stampeding of feets as the people outside identified the noise. He saw, before he could escape, the crashing of shoes on the door, breaking the doorway. He watched with trepidation as the doorway flung open with a loud bang, shaking the room. He watched as two men he had never seen entered the room, their eyes flitting back and forth as they surveyed their surroundings. He watched as their faces registered shock as they glimpsed the dead body. Their eyes locked with him as they stared with what could only be described as astonishment.

They paled as they identified both escapee and the dead body.

It was the silverette who spoke first; he had his fist at his side, "Tenth! You…." He couldn't choke out the words.

The dark-haired man standing next to him put a comforting hand on his shoulders, one that he did not shrug, "Maa, don't worry Gokudera, I'm sure Tsuna has a good explanation, right?" His eyes looked hopeful, as though he wished that Tsuna would deny it.

Tsuna—if that was his name—stared at the two men who entered the room. He recognized none, even though they claimed that they knew him. He knew how he looked like to them. A crazed man escaping from a murder scene. Hell, he even had the murder weapon still clutched in his hands, decorated with the blood of the victim. He didn't blame them for anything. Even _he_ would doubt himself.

"I," he began, gazing guiltily at the two men who were prompting him to speak. What could he say to these two strangers who claimed they knew him? They would never understand. "I have to go. Sorry. Bye."

And with that departing speech, he jumped out of the window, rolling into the wet grass. He turned around to stare at the window and wasn't surprised to hear the commotion from inside. He took a deep breath, trying his best to drown out the desperate voices that were calling for him.

"Tenth! Tenth! Come back please, we'll believe you!" Gokudera shouted desperately, "Please Tenth. We don't blame you for anything!"

Tsuna sobbed with guilt. It wasn't as though he killed the man, but the kind considerate words that the strangers were saying to him—strangers who were willing to listen to him—had become the straw that broke the camel's back. He couldn't stop once he started. He wasn't Tsuna anymore. How could he be when he had got himself entangled in a confusing storm? Tsuna was somebody else they once knew, somebody he didn't even remember anymore. He was a nobody now. A nothing.

He stood up, dusting himself. He gazed forlornly at the desperate face of Gokudera and sobbed, "I'm sorry."

They were too good for him. He didn't deserve them. He didn't like the look of adoration that was coming from Gokudera. He didn't like the way they were desperately clutching to a straw of hope, waiting for him to deny everything. Willing to believe in him.

He could not take that. He had already chosen his path. He could not stay inside. He had a mission. A mission to discover who he was and what had happened to him. These kind strangers would hinder the process.

_There must be a reason for everything. I want to discover my identity and the connection with the dead man._

Surely there was a reason why he was there at that convenient time. Even if he had not killed him, he would have had a motive for being there.

He decided to walk away. He jogged a few paces, but didn't get far when he felt cold metallic chains enveloping him tightly. He felt himself trip on the ground, scraping his knees in the process. The chains were constricting him and he struggled, trashing about as he tried to identify the culprit. _Was it the killer_? He thought in a panic, as the chains still continued to spread over him, squeezing him tightly.

He tried to move his head to the side, but before he could even attempt anything, he felt a sharp hand chop at the base of his neck and his eyes widened, before registering the shock and pain. He felt his eyes drooping, succumbing to the pain.

Before him stood three guards, layered in heavy cloaks and covered in bandages. They stared emotionlessly at him, pulling him forward.

"Sawada Tsunayoshi, you have breached the mafia law by unlawfully assassinating the body of Nono Timeteo. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

Behind them, a fedora-hatted man stared at the scene unfolding before him. He watched as his ex- student's body was carried away by the Vindice guards and lowered his fedora-hat.

"I'm sorry Tsuna," he muttered, "this was for the best."

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**PSN**: Aaand cut! *uses clapboard*

Poor Tsuna lost his memory! Now he thinks Gokudera, Yamamoto and Hibari are strangers! D:

Hmm, what did you think of this? XD I'm pretty excited about this concept. I had to do a lot of research for this (Including how long a body decays.) :D I know that this was short and a bit boring, but I wanted to establish a ground for this story (Perhaps the next chapter will be longer.) Also, I'm sure you have noticed: Enrico is used in this fic and is alive.

***Every review will be regarded as a petition to release Tsunayoshi Sawada, the subject of this story, from Vendicare. The subject will be eternally grateful to every person who tries their hardest to prove that he is indeed innocent and framed.**


	2. The new boss

**PSN:** Oh wow guys! XD Thanks for the reviews, favourites and alerts! Ninja and I are very, very happy that this has gotten attention! :D

**LucyNight:** I have never ever read the Bourne Trilogy, but you prompted me to go and read it! Now I'm curious about the book. XD

**Just a note:** The Guardians will be around 18/19 kinda-ish. Enrico is around 26/27 and I had to make up his whole character for this fic. Also, box weapons and rings are common here, since nearly everybody in the mafia has it. (I guess Verde's knowledge has spread)

Read this with your Dying Will! ***shoots dying will bullet***

**Beta'ed by**: PhantomHitman1412

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**"I don't want to be a product of my environment. I want my environment to be a product of me." The Departed**

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**Vongola Mansion: **

It was the following morning and to say that the Vongola mansion was in an uproar would have been an understatement. The noise level inside the mansion had amplified by a few octaves and the flurry of random activities had increased after the demise of the Ninth had been confirmed. The Vongola secretaries were rushing up and down the hall with trilling phone lines, shouting until their voices had become hoarse and assuring the allies that everything was under control and that there was no need for international interference. Few attendants that worked under Vongola had resigned early, fearing for their own life—nobody wanted to end up like Nono.

Murmurs of conspiracy resonated through the halls of the mansion and all eyes set on Enrico who was swaggering assertively with his pressed suit and slicked back hair. Although he wasn't smiling there was still the apparent crinkle of amusement in his eyes as he walked en route to the office that had been previously occupied by the Ninth—_his father_. He saluted and acknowledged the people as though he were their king and nodded at all the secretaries who were busy regulating the demanding and chaotic phone lines that just didn't seem to stop ringing.

Not a single soul had any inkling as to where Enrico had come from. Enrico had never been part of the Vongola for such a long time that the majority of the people had disregarded his existence. The Ninth had never talked about him and people had always assumed that he had died and that the memory of his death was still raw. This is why the majority of people had been immensely stunned at his sudden arrival upon the Ninth's retirement—he had just waltzed in, completely carefree, as though he had always been part of Vongola.

"I find it unsettling that the people keep staring at me as though I'm a fiendish being," Enrico murmured to one of his subordinates who was trying their best to shelter him from any assaults. Enrico was distrustful and paranoid about everything, which meant that he assumed that anybody who wasn't working for him was preparing his demise.

"Oh I doubt that," one of the subordinates answered smoothly, staring at the people who were trying their best to avert their gaze from Enrico. Most of them were trying their best to pretend that all was well and that the Ninth had not been massacred the night before by his heir Tsunayoshi.

"Hmph, well I hope so, because I'm planning on becoming the boss of this family and they'll have no choice but to revere me," he said, straightening his tie. He strode towards the doorknob of his deceased father's bureau and with a great sigh unlocked it. His nose wrinkled in distaste as he witnessed the cluttered office with various papers lying in disarray. He sighed again with annoyance as he turned towards the subordinate who was at his side and imperiously waved his hand at the room, asserting with an authoritative voice "Clean this. I want a clean office and pronto!"

The subordinate nodded and shuffled towards the papers, "But sir, most of them are important documents from allied families," he said, reading the notes and raising his eyebrows. He showed them to Enrico who squinted to read the scrawly hand-writing.

Enrico gave a dismissive snort, "So? Pass those papers to me, I'll assess the significance of this," he sat down on his father's chair and ran a hand through his hair. "We'll have our hands full with the arrangements of the funeral," he said to nobody in particular. He swivelled around the chair, a pen balanced precariously on the bridge of his nose. He hummed as he searched through his father's desk compartment. His eyes perused the several notes that his late father had written to arbitrarily allied families and snorted with incredulity.

The subordinate looked up with surprise. He was half way through clearing the mess and sorting the important papers from the insignificant ones, "What is it sir?"

Enrico shook his head, "Nothing. I'm just surprised at my father's sentiment and optimism. He was never like that before," for a moment a dark cloud passed his face, but it was gone a split second later and the subordinate thought he had imagined it, "But oh well, things will change from now on."

"But you have to go through an official ceremony to be named the Tenth of this family," the subordinate said knowledgably, "Or else it will be annulled by default."

Enrico rolled his eyes and exhaled a sigh, "I know that you buffoon," he smiled with amusement, his dark eyes crumpling with joy, "And I also know that I'm an immediate successor and heir to the Vongola family by _default._"

The subordinate's eyes widened with understanding. He dropped the paper and blinked, "B-but…"

Enrico nodded solemnly, "Which I'm afraid, means that I do not have to go through the tedious ceremony you speak of," he pulled back his head and laughed, "Isn't that amazing? I know that many will say that this sounds evil, but one good thing has come from my father's death," he snorted, "It is as though he did me a favour!"

The subordinate was visibly shaking by now, but he hid it well as he sorted out the papers. However before he could enquire any further about this development, there was a loud sharp knock on the door. The knock was ceaseless and impatient, as though the person on the other end was tempted to knock down the door—which he/she would surely have done if they were given the chance.

Enrico sighed with exasperation, "Come inside," he said with a haggard voice. He had produced a cigarette from under the desk and promptly lighted it, inhaling the satisfactory smoke that was billowing from the cigarette end. He pretended to be reading the notes on his desk and looked up when the person entered.

"Enrico!"

It was Gokudera Hayato, Tsuna's right-hand man and Storm guardian. Enrico raised his eyebrow when he noticed the state of the Storm guardian. His silver hair was sticking out everywhere and his face was pallid. Even his eyes were bloodshot and glazed, as though he had not slept well the night before—which was well, considering that his boss was currently locked in Vendicare.

But what surprised Enrico the most was the hateful glare that was emitting from his eyes. Gokudera growled, clenching his fist as he stared hatefully at Enrico who was idly sitting in his father's chair and inhaling the smoke in his cigarette.

"You bastard!" he snarled, trying to lunge at him. He rushed forward and tried swiping at him with his bare fist, but he was immediately stopped by one of Enrico's subordinates who withheld a cloud flame barrier between him and Gokudera, pushing him back with a strong force.

Gokudera stumbled backwards in shock. He looked at the subordinate who had put his ring in his pocket. He was given a warning look, but Gokudera chose to ignore it and shouted at Enrico who was gazing with amusement, "Why did you call the Vindice on the Tenth you bastard! _Why?_ The Tenth didn't do anything!"

Enrico smirked, tipping his cigarette until the burnt ashes fell into the ashtray. He exhaled a spiral of smoke and shook his head in amusement. He waited as the suspense in the room thickened and spoke.

"Oh, I see that the storm has finally decided to become a hurricane" he laughed at his own joke and grinned, dragging on his cigarette. "Why did I call the Vindice?" he paused, as though he were pondering the thought, "Oh, but you see, I haven't called the Vindice at all on your little friend."

Gokudera let out a feral growl, "Don't mess with me you bastard!"

Enrico sighed theatrically, "Gokudera, Gokudera." He wagged his fingers at him, as though he was telling off a small naughty child, "How can I mess with you when my own father's life was at stake?"

"Shall I escort him out?" One of the subordinates who had heard the commotion inside the office, asked.

Enrico shook his head, "No. We'll have a chat," he pointed his finger at the subordinate who was still busy cleaning the room, "Luigi, go."

The subordinate named Luigi nodded his head curtly and exited the room promptly, closing the door behind him. The only people in the room now were an angry Gokudera and Enrico who was now busily open the window to let some air through.

"What did you want to talk about?" Gokudera snarled, gazing at Enrico with unadulterated contempt.

"A lot of things to be precise," the laughter in his voice had been replaced by a more serious tone. His own eyes were set hard and it made his dark eyes look like marbles. He placed the cigarette on the ashtray and produced another cigarette from the packet, lighting it with ease.

"And..?" Gokudera prompted him. He was in no mood to play games.

Enrico sighed, "Well about Tsuna and many other things really."

Gokudera's eyes widened and he stood up, "What about the Tenth?" his tone of voice indicated that there was going to be nothing bad said about the aforementioned man.

Enrico noticed Gokudera's hands dangerously lying in his pockets and rolled his eyes. The man was too attached to his former boss.

"Well as you can see, it has already been established that this family needs a boss you see," Enrico explained, watching Gokudera's hands carefully, "and it has been set that I am going to become the boss as I am the successful heir."

Gokudera let out a delirious snort, "In a million years," he laughed snidely, "the Tenth will return and—"

"You fool!" Enrico snapped, losing his temper. His face contorted with fury as he hissed, "Are you that stupid? Your precious Tenth has been sent to the Vendicare! _Vendicare!"_ He repeated, his arms flailing about dramatically, to see if Gokudera got the point, "And do you have any idea what it is like there? _No._ You do not know . But I will tell you one thing." Here he stood up and growled intimidatingly, "If you have been deemed worthy of being sent there…"

His eyes locked on Gokudera as he pronounced his final words properly, "You do not return," he said, accentuating on the word '_return.'_

Gokudera visibly blanched, reeling with shock. Shock soon morphed into anger, as he spat, "Then if you knew how bad it was, why did you call the Vindice on him!" He paused, choking on his own words, "The Tenth doesn't deserve to be there! He's innocent!"

Enrico exhaled out a puff of smoke and sighed with exasperation, "Once a fool, always a fool," he sang, "You have no idea about the mafia system, do you?"

Gokudera muttered incoherently and Enrico strained to hear him.

"Still," he continued, dropping his cigarette, "You needn't worry about anything. Your Tenth will be replaced and you will forget about him. From hereby on, I'm your new boss and Tenth," he smiled, pleased with himself, "However, that can't happen until my father is buried and a memorial is placed in his honour."

"I'll never work under you!" Gokudera shouted, "And I'll get the Tenth back, you watch!"

"I guess you're a young fool," Enrico smiled pleasantly at him, "but then you should get your facts right. You are not going to be in a position of becoming my right-hand man. You already show signs of incompetence when faced with stress. You see, for the former Tenth generation guardians, I was planning on making you my sub-subordinates."

Gokudera's faced paled as the words sank in. "We're being sacked?" he cried out with incredulity, "B-but! You're crazy!"

"I'm the boss, so I make the rules," Enrico said simply, bearing a '_no questions asked'_ arrogant attitude. "Which means that I have a right to strip you of your title if I desire. You see, I have already sent a telegram to my_ original_ guardians who are scattered all over the world. They are, I'm afraid to inform you, more competent and trustworthy than Tsunayoshi's guardians combined."

Gokudera got out his bombs, his voice low, "Then I'm not going out without a fight. It's the least I can do for the Tenth."

Enrico smiled as he suppressed a chuckle, "You're more naïve than I have expected, Storm Guardian. You're 10 years too early to challenge me."

"You planned this, didn't you?" Gokudera asked, his hands resting dangerously on the bombs—ready to detonate at his order.

Enrico feigned a gasp, "Me? Why would I plan this? I have much more class than that. You should save that question for your boss—oops; he's not coming back, is he?"

"Die you bastard!" Gokudera roared, sprinting towards Enrico who was smiling gleefully at him. He threw the bombs at him and was surprised to find out that it had been repelled by a barrier. He watched as the bombs fell harmlessly to the ground, undetonated.

"I told you that you are 10 years too early." Enrico sighed, pointing at the bombs with pity. "My subordinate had layered a barrier beforehand, so your bombs are useless."

Before Gokudera could retaliate, he heard a voice that stopped him in his tracks.

"_If this is the case, then I resign."_

They turned around the face an impassive Hibari who was leaning against the doorway, regarding Enrico with a calm gaze. He had his ring and box weapon at his side and strode towards Enrico's desk before dropping them with a loud _thud. _He sniffed as he considered Gokudera who was still clutching his bombs and Enrico who was staring with amusement.

"I have no need for this family anymore since the omnivore is gone," he said with nonchalance, walking out of the door.

Gokudera gawped at the retreating figure of Hibari.

"You bastard Hibari! You're playing his game!" Gokudera shouted after him, having overcome his shock, "The Tenth will be very upset!"

"There is no Tenth anymore, therefore there is nothing for me to do," was Hibari's simple reply as the sound of his shoes hitting the floor subsided and diminished into a faint _tap-tapping_.

"Well…" Enrico grinned, his eyebrows raised at the sudden ordeal, "That was an interesting development." He turned to the enraged Gokudera, "And for the record, it wasn't _I_ who called the Vindice on your little friend anyway."

"Who?" His voice sounded wary and suspicious, as though he was prepared to refute his statement.

"It was Reborn actually. _His own tutor_."

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**Underground: Vendicare**

When Tsuna came to, he was aware of the dim light flickering faintly in the cell he was in. His skull was pounding deafeningly as the blood rushed to his head. His ears were ringing and the tap-tapping of the water drops falling from the broken pipe was infuriating him. The pain caused by the headache was hammering inside his head, giving him no space to think. He coughed; his throat dry and tickly. His body jerked in pain as he racked up another cough. He was parched and extremely thirsty. Had he not drank anything? He couldn't remember anything. He could hardly see anything.

_What was I doing here?_ He wondered, as he became attuned to the room that he was in. His eyes were becoming focused, and from his peripheral vision he could just make out the tattered stained suit that he was wearing and noted for the first time the chains that were shackling him, covering his ankles and wrists. Binding him like a slave.

He stared at the chains with rising panic. _Why am I chained?_ He wondered as he detected the red marks on his ankle and wrists; Angry swollen swells that were concealed partially by the dense iron chains that were covering his ankle and wrists. He tried standing up, but the chains were too heavy to lift.

He grunted in disgust as he sat on the ground, helpless. He stared at the dingy room that was making him feel more and more claustrophobic as he felt the air in the room becoming limited. He feared that he would die of asphyxiation if he sat in the room for more than a minute. He could already feel the panic attack rising in his chest, constricting his breathing.

He tried to breathe in and out slowly through his nose to ease the intensifying panic that was threatening to overlap him.

_One, I'll be fine._

_Two, I'll be fine._

_Three, I'll be fine._

He muttered the words under his breath, trying to calm his fraying nerves. But before he could continue any further, he heard footsteps. They were drawing near him and the irritating sound of the '_click_' '_click'_ of heels connecting with the ground was grating his nerves.

He waited, apprehensive as the sounds near his cell increased. He watched as two women and a man approached his side of the cell. He noted that the two women looked increasingly similar. Both had pink shoulder length hair and dark black eye masks that hid their face. A clipboard was raised, and they seemed to appraising him.

"Tsunayoshi Sawada," one of the pink-haired woman said, gazing at him in an incomprehensible manner, "You have breached the law. However, you can redeem yourself and compensate for the evil actions that you have committed by working for us."

_What?_ Tsuna thought, incredulous. He stared at the woman who seemed unwavering despite the sceptical looks Tsuna was sending her way. Were these people part of the group that had locked him up here without any appeal? How was he able to redeem himself if he had no idea about the crime that he had committed—he was sure that he had been framed.

"Um…I haven't done anything," he muttered, staring at the ground.

"Do not be difficult," the other woman said, sighing as she upheld her stance. "We have already formed a contract with the Vindice to release you, so you have no say in the matter."

"We will take whatever force that is appropriate and you will come with us, regardless of your relentlessness," the other woman finished.

Were they for real? Tsuna thought, blinking back in surprise at the vehement force of their words. Why were they desperate for him to come with them? And why was he not allowed to protest? He didn't have to be a world expert in the law of human rights, but he was quite sure that forcing somebody to come without their consent was against the law—as far as he was concerned.

"Why am I here?" He asked, diverting their attention for a split moment. He wanted to reassess the situation. Because even though the force of the chain on his limbs was hurting him greatly, he didn't want to risk a chance of freedom.

And this was freedom on a plate.

They didn't hesitate to answer him, "You are here solely for a crime that you have committed. This is an established underground prison for dangerous people who work in the mafia or are against the mafia. People who are a major threat to society. And you have been deemed a threat due to the fact that you have murdered one of the most powerful men in mafia history. And because we need you, we have subsided your crime penalty and averted the death penalty."

It sounded as though she had recited this from a book. Tsuna's eyes widened with disbelief. He looked down at himself and stared at the heavy iron chains that bound him. Was this the payment for a crime he had not committed? He didn't have to have his memory to know that he wasn't the type of person who would kill a person in cold-blood. It wasn't in his genes.

_How would you know? You do not even remember your name._ A voice in his chimed snidely.

"I haven't done anything!" he cried in protest, pointing at his chains, "I haven't done…" he choked back on a sob, "Anything! I have been framed, I know I have! Does this look like the face of a killer?"

They looked at him with pity. One of the women stepped forward and gripped his shoulders tightly, forcing him to stay still.

"We know Tsunayoshi," she muttered with what could only be described as pity, "But you have to explain this to the rest of the world." She fumbled through her skirt pocket and produced a faded Polaroid picture that was curling piteously at the edge.

"Look Tsunayoshi," the other woman said.

Tsuna looked at the picture with confusion. He stared at it, blinking. He tried to see what he was supposed to see, and suddenly let out a sharp breath as he stared in horror at the image, everything suddenly coming into focus. He stared again and again, trying to understand what it meant. He stared at his fingers in horror and much to his chagrin the answer was still there.

"H—h—o—ow?!" he managed to stutter, choking back a sob. "I didn't kill him! I know I didn't!"

"We understand. That is why we have forged a contract with the Vindice to release you. To the rest of the world, you are guilty of the crime, but with us you can change and redeem yourself," she answered, standing up straight and smoothing down her white pencil skirt.

"Therefore," the other woman continued, "To get to bottom of this case, you will have to work for us again. You are in no position to resist. If you do, this picture will circulate around the globe and you will become mafia's most wanted."

Tsuna stared again at the picture. There he was, lying in a heap, blood seeping from his suit. His ring was next to the deceased body and the knife was clutched in his hand. He didn't remember holding the murder weapon when he awoke earlier, but the bloodstain on his ring was still there.

"Why am I here then?" He asked, his hands sweeping through the narrow cell. "Why didn't you make me work for you, before I was locked up like a criminal? If you knew I hadn't done anything in the first place, why was I treated like a felon?"

"Boss's orders," they answered, "We had to make it look as though you were locked underground in the Vendicare, so that people would not look for you. This means that after you leave this cell, you are not Tsunayoshi Sawada anymore."

"Then who am I?" he asked. He didn't trust his memory anymore.

"_A nobody_. You will work for us, and we will conduct an investigation about the case of last night," she crouched and produced a key from her pockets, "So what is your answer Tsunayoshi?"

If Tsuna stayed here, he was going to be treated like a criminal and very harshly by the Vindice guards if the iron chains were anything to go by. However if he went with these women, to an organisation he had no idea about, to revaluate his case and prove that he was innocent, then he could clear his name.

"Yes," Tsuna said without hesitation.

"Okay then welcome back Tsunayoshi."

* * *

**A/N:** I guess apart from Hibari leaving the Vongola, not much happened, right? I know that the ending is a little anti-climatic, but I wanted to set a setting first. I also know that the Cervello's or whatever they were called are very bland at this stage and a bit bleh bleh.

At least Tsuna is out of Vendicare, so that is cool right? :D


End file.
